


Wake Up Call

by SylvieW



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comfort, Fluff, Frottage, M/M, Scott is a Bad Friend, Sheriff finds out, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 06:26:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6144529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvieW/pseuds/SylvieW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek has nightmares and now that Laura is gone there's no one to wake him up and comfort him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks once again to my rockstar beta [ChloeWeird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChloeWeird/works?fandom_id=258526)!

“Hello?” Stiles called out as he stepped into the train depot. He hadn’t seen the pack recently and wasn't sure where they stood in terms of being allies, but with Scott caught up in his Tango Allison, Stiles had no one else to turn to regarding the latest bout of weirdness popping up in Beacon Hills.

He was simultaneously concerned and relieved when no one answered him. On one hand, no one should live in an abandoned train station, so hopefully Derek had found a new lair. On the other hand, if the pack wasn't here, Stiles wasn’t sure how to track them down.

He jumped a foot in the air when he saw Erica and Isaac sprawled on/across a couch they had dragged down, ignoring him in favour of a magazine and a chemistry textbook, respectively. “Hey guys, how's it going?” Stiles was met with silence. He waited a beat then continued, “So, is Derek here? Anywhere? Lurking in a corner, maybe?”

Erica flicked to the next page. “He’s around.”

Stiles waited another beat. “Do you want to get him for me?”

“No,” Erica said, mildly.

“Okay, then.” Stiles wandered further in and flopped down onto the chair usually inhabited by Boyd. He grabbed a magazine off the floor and started browsing idly, hoping Derek would be along soon.

When he first heard it, he thought maybe Erica or Isaac had wolfed out, but they were still reading like nothing had happened. He listened for a few more seconds, looking around the loft to see if he could find the source. When nothing appeared to attack him, he settled further into the chair, intending to return to his article. Then he heard it again. It was a low and pained growl. Stiles jumped to his feet, seeking out the noise. “What was that?”

Erica flicked her eyes toward him, and shrugged dismissively. The noise repeated and Isaac slouched further down. Stiles tried to impersonate his father and pinned Isaac with the best Interrogation Glare he could manage. “Isaac. What was it?”

Isaac tried to look like he didn't care any more than Erica, but his eyes betrayed him and flicked over to the nearby subway car. Stiles crossed his arms and widened his stance, still nailing him with Disappointed Sheriff Face. Isaac rolled his eyes and said, “Derek is asleep.” As if that explained the wounded noises coming from inside the train.

Stiles blinked for a moment, waiting for Isaac to elaborate. “Should someone wake him up?”

Erica snorted. “He already kicked our asses once during training today, I’m not in a rush for him to do it again.” Isaac refused to look at him anymore.

The noise came again, louder this time, almost forming words, but nothing Stiles could understand. He flicked his gaze between the door and the betas a couple of times before he charged over with more bravado than he actually felt. 

The inside of the train car was more dim and dusty than the rest of the depot. It took his eyes a minute to adjust enough for him to make out Derek, curled into himself on a bare mattress. He’d thrown aside one threadbare blanket, and had no other warmth or comfort than the jeans he wore. Stiles considered sneaking closer, but then he decided that the sooner Derek woke up and realized Stiles was there, the better. 

He walked to Derek’s side quickly and tried to sound calm as he called out, “Derek? Derek, are you awake yet?”

Stiles was halfway to the mattress when Derek bolted upright, and shouted, “Laura!” Stiles stumbled back in surprise, yelping as he tripped over his own feet.

Derek stared at him, red eyes blazing, breath coming in hard pants. Stiles stared back. Tentatively, Stiles asked, “are you--?”

Derek cut him off and ground out, “Why are you here?”

Stiles tried to swallow, but his mouth had gone dry. He wanted to offer Derek some sort of comfort, but he was concerned with the very real possibility that it would lead to bodily harm, so he elected to pretend nothing had happened. “I was at the lake in the Preserve a few days ago, and I noticed that the colour is off. It was too murky for me to see anything, but I think there's something in there.”

Derek growled and climbed off the mattress. Stiles scampered out of the way as Derek headed out of the train car. Erica and Isaac jumped off the couch, looking ready to sprout claws. “Why are you just sitting here? Go out to the lake and look around. Don’t get into any trouble, or touch _anything_ , just look. Be back in an hour.”

The two betas fled, shooting Stiles venomous glares on their way. Stiles smirked back at them, just to get under their skin. The smirk fell away when Derek rounded on him. “Was that all?”

Stiles opened and closed his mouth a few times, then winced when he remembered Jackson had jeered that it made him look like a fish. “I...yeah, that’s pretty much it.” Derek scowled harder and crossed his arms. It probably didn’t have the exact effect that Derek was looking for, because while it was intimidating as hell, he hadn’t put a shirt on. Stiles ended up one part terrified and two parts outrageously turned on, thanks to the powerful muscle and smooth skin on display.

When Stiles didn’t say anything more, Derek growled, breaking Stiles from his stupor. “I’ll just… Uh. Go, then. Let you get back to your...werewolf stuff and...Bye.” He bolted for the exit and didn’t look back.

***

Stiles jumped out of his computer chair as a blur of black came swinging through his window. He grabbed for his lacrosse stick and spun around, then sagged in relief when he recognized the intruder. 

“Jesus, warn a guy.” Derek was standing next to the window, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. “Don’t give me that judgy look, I’m not exactly accustomed to people climbing through my window in the dead of night.”

“It’s nine o’clock.”

Stiles sniffed disdainfully. “Early to bed, early to rise?”

Derek shrugged off his jacket while giving Stiles a _Seriously_? look. Having already spent many a night waiting for Stiles to finish researching something, Derek knew that Stiles subscribed more to the _Keep going til you drop_ school of thought when it came to bedtimes.

“Did you have a reason for dropping in or were you just pining for my company?” Stiles settled back down at his computer and Derek put a slip of paper next to him.

“We’ve been looking into the lake situation a bit more. I think it’s a kind of freshwater-dwelling giant squid, but we need information on how to get rid of it.” Derek kicked off his boots, grabbed a book off Stiles’ shelf and flopped onto the bed.

“Make yourself comfortable, why don’t you,” Stiles grumbled as he pulled up a new window to start his research. He used the information Derek had given him as a springboard and dove into the rabbit hole of the World Wide Web.

After a few hours of shooting rhetorical questions at Derek, sorting through websites and weeding out tentacle porn, he had a fair amount of information on what kind of sea monster (or lake monster) they were dealing with. He was organizing the compiled data when he heard the noise.

It started the same as before, a low rumbling growl. Stiles looked at the bed and saw that Derek had passed out, the book still clutched in his hands. Derek made the noise again, and tensed, his shoulders hunched.

The mumbling started soon after, jumbled words about people, fire, and pain. When Stiles couldn’t stand to listen any longer, he hurried over to the bed, and placed a hand lightly on Derek’s shoulder.

Derek came awake immediately, grabbing him around the waist and shoving his face into Stiles’ stomach. Stiles stood awkwardly while Derek clung to him, panting against his stomach. Stiles hesitantly placed a hand on Derek’s back and started rubbing slow circles like his mom used to do. 

Gradually, Derek got his breath back and finally let go of Stiles, then grabbed his shoes and shoved them on, not making eye contact.

Stiles retreated to his computer and printed the information he’d gathered. “Looks like we’re dealing with a minor league kraken. A much less impressive cousin or something. If you need a hand, let me know.” He held the paper out as Derek pulled his jacket on.

Derek hesitated by the window. “I…” 

“See you soon, right?” Stiles pulled up Tumblr, just to give him something to do that wasn’t grabbing Derek, pushing him back on to the bed and holding him tight.

Derek stared at him like he wasn’t sure if he should stay and explain, or run as far and as fast as he could. Finally, he nodded. “Soon,” he said, curtly, and vaulted out the window. 

Stiles spent some more time winding down on the internet before he got ready for bed. He couldn’t make himself close the window.

***

It became a bit of a pattern. Something strange would turn up in town. They would seek each other out to help figure out what it was or how to get rid of it. Derek would fall asleep in Stiles’ bed and start to panic, chased by nightmares. Stiles would wake him up, and hold on until the terror receded. Derek never talked about the dreams, and Stiles never asked.

The more it happened, the better Stiles got at soothing Derek. After a while, instead of bolting as soon as he could, Derek would stay, picking up his book again or wandering into the bathroom for water. 

One night, the nightmare came late enough that instead of leaving, they fell asleep tangled together. Stiles wasn’t sure how long Derek stayed, since he was gone when Stiles woke up. Stiles changed out of his clothes, having never gotten around to pulling on pajamas, and headed to school.

When he sat down in homeroom, Scott leaned over his own desk to sniff at the back of Stiles’ neck. Stiles slapped at him ineffectually. “What the hell, dude?’

 

“What were you doing with Derek?” Scott plopped back down in his own seat to avoid Stiles’ blows.

“Research. I told you about it. We’re trying to figure out what’s with that barista that smells like fish--” 

Stiles broke off when Scott leaned forward to sniff him again.

“You reek of him. What did he do, roll around in your sheets or something?” Scott scrunched up his face like he was smelling garbage instead of Derek’s fresh, clean scent. “Wait, is this some weird new tactic to try and get me to join his pack?”

Stiles knew that Scott didn’t mean it to be offensive, but it hurt nonetheless. “Oh, so, the only possible reason that Derek would give me the time of day is to get to you? Couldn’t possibly be that I have some value based on my own merit. No, no. It's all about getting you in the leather club.”

Scott just looked confused. “Well, yeah. Why would he do it otherwise?”

Stiles stared at him for a minute, completely stunned. He was saved from having to think of what to say by the teacher starting class. He went through his day as usual. Scott didn’t notice that he was distracted, just talked about Allison and lamented his challenges with school and work. Stiles went through the motions, nodding and responding when necessary, but he wasn’t really paying attention. 

Did Scott really see him like that? Did he honestly think that Stiles had absolutely no qualities or skills that would make Derek seek him out? Scott wasn’t exactly the most observant person, especially since Her Royal Dimpleness had come into his life, but they were best friends. If Scott wanted to hang out with Stiles, shouldn’t he be able to see why someone else would, too? Except that...Scott and Stiles hadn’t hung out recently, not really. They had classes together, and lunch, but they hadn’t spent more than an hour with just the two of them in weeks.

The thing that really upset Stiles was the thought that maybe Derek did see him that way. Stiles thought they had progressed to friends, considering how often Derek came over. If his Dad wasn’t home, then Derek would almost certainly be dropping in. That was a lot of time to devote to some sort of scheme to win Scott over. 

Maybe Derek didn’t actually like spending time with Stiles. They mostly just did research and information swapping, with the occasional foray into negotiations with supernatural creatures. Derek might just be using him for his research skills. That wasn’t ideal, but Stiles felt like it was better than being used to get to Scott. At least that way, he’d be used for his own merit, instead of for his best friend.

If all that was true, though, why did Derek keep falling asleep on his bed? Derek never seemed to plan his fitful naps, but if he was really against having them with Stiles close by, he could take precautions to keep himself awake. If he didn’t like Stiles, why did he let Stiles touch him when he woke up from a nightmare?

The questions looped through his brain all day. By that evening, he had thought of every possible scenario and still didn’t know what either werewolf actually thought of him. He was frustrated and his head hurt, so when Derek swung through his open window, he couldn’t contain his irritation anymore.

“What do you want?” Stiles snapped.

Derek stopped in the process of taking off his jacket, staring at Stiles. “I...We didn’t finish yesterday.”

“Is that it? You just want me to finish researching and you don’t trust me to call you when I’m done?” Stiles pushed out of his chair but had nowhere to go.

Derek’s eyebrows moved in an odd agitated dance, that didn’t really tell Stiles anything. “Are you mad because I stayed the night?”

That just confused Stiles. “What? I didn’t even know for sure if you had, I didn’t wake up until I had to leave for school.”

“Oh.” Derek shifted awkwardly. “Are you...mad about something else?”

Stiles sighed and collapsed back into his chair, rubbing his hands over his face. “I don’t know. I don’t understand why you come here. Am I even in your pack? Are we even friends?”

Derek was quiet at first, then he took a deep breath and sat on the bed. “I think we're friends. Yeah, that’s...I’m not good with people and relationships, but I thought we were.”

Stiles nodded. “Me too. What about pack?”

Derek grimaced. “Pack is more complicated.”

Stiles tensed again. “Because I’m not a werewolf?”

“It’s not that clear cut. Humans have been in lots of packs. They used to be in mine. But usually they’re born in, or marry in,” Derek explained. “That’s not really the main issue,”

“Then what is?” Stiles prodded.

“You’re part of Scott’s pack, and he doesn’t want anything to do with mine.” Derek sounded like he hated to say it, but then again, conversation was never his favourite pastime.

Stiles absorbed that. “It doesn’t feel like I am. Scott’s pack.” Derek looked surprised, but he didn’t push. “I hardly see him anymore. He spends all his free time with Allison, and I...I spend mine with you. But if you don’t want me in your pack--”

“I do,” Derek growled.

“Why?” Stiles pressed.

Derek scrubbed his face with his hand, and mumbled, “What the actual fuck is my life.” Stiles almost chuckled, because clearly Derek was hanging around him enough to pick up some of his speech patterns. He waited Derek out, because he knew Derek would get there when he was ready. He hadn’t realized just how important the answer was until he asked the question. Derek took one last bracing breath before explaining, “You are literally the only person in this whole stupid town that I can depend on.”

That was really not the answer Stiles was expecting. “You...What about your pack?”

Derek shrugged. “The bond is growing, but they still see me more of a means to an end. They resent what I dragged them into, while also viewing me as the solution to their problems. You bitch and complain, but you show up. Always. And you never expect anything in return. You have research skills, and you’re good at planning, and you manage to talk circles around people until they’re so confused that they agree to anything you want. Those are handy and all, but mostly, I trust you.”

Stiles bit his lip. “So, you come here because…”

Derek looked to the window. “I feel safest here. Because I...I know you’ll wake me up.”

Stiles moved from the chair to sit next to Derek on the bed but didn’t reach out for him. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Derek shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it, but clearly you need to understand.” They sat silently while Derek composed his thoughts. “I’ve had nightmares since the fire. Laura wanted me to see a therapist, but it’s not easy to find someone who won’t suggest a psych ward if you mention being a werewolf, and we weren't staying in one spot for long. It got easier to deal with because she would always wake me up and help me calm down. Then she was killed, and it was like the nightmares had come true.”

Stiles didn’t resist the need to touch him anymore, just reached over and laid his palm on Derek’s forearm, feeling the tendons tense and shift under the skin.

“When no one's there to wake me up, the dreams seem longer, and it’s harder to get past them when I wake up.” Derek swallowed, and looked away from Stiles’ hand on his arm. “It’s not fair to put this kind of pressure on you. You can’t fix it, and you can’t bring them back, but I…”

“If I help at all, then that’s enough. I don’t mind. I don’t want you to be alone.” Stiles hesitated. “I know it’s not the same, but when my mom died...Panic attacks were easier to get through if I had someone with me.”

Derek pulled him close and Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s shoulders. He let Derek push him down onto the bed and bury his face in Stiles shoulder, shutting out the intense emotions the discussion had stirred. 

Derek still had his boots on, and they were hanging over the edge. When they both felt calmer, Derek asked, “What brought this on? You smelled really upset when I got here.”

Stiles shrugged a bit. “Scott smelled you on me. He thought it was some sort of weird plan to get him to join you.”

The dismissive scoff that Derek made went even further to soothing Stiles’ ego. “Scott has been nothing but a pain in the ass since I met him. I know for a fact that I can’t trust him. If he wants to join our pack, fine, but I have more than enough to worry about as it is. And how the hell would making you smell like me translate into getting him with us?”

Stiles pushed up onto his elbows. “I know, right? I’ve been trying to figure it out all day!”

Derek snorted. “If anything, I could use him to get to you. You're loyal to a fault and far more valuable.”

“I can’t decide if I should smack you for talking about me like I’m a commodity or give you a cookie for the compliment.” Stiles flopped back down.

‘Do I get a choice in the matter?” Derek sat up and started working his boots off.

“Make you a deal. If you can find the thin mints my Dad stashed somewhere in the house, we can share them.” Stiles decided he could use some cookies after a full day of emotional turmoil, and it was a great way to get them away from his dad.

Derek tossed his jacket on Stiles’ head and left the bedroom. Stiles threw it off and headed for his computer to start on his homework so he could on finish up the latest batch of research.

It took less than five minutes for Derek to return triumphantly with the cookies, retrieved from behind his dad’s vinyl collection.


	2. Chapter 2

Derek started staying over every time the Sheriff had a night shift, even without the excuse of the latest town nasty. They started watching movies and hanging out just as often as they researched. Derek was always fine to sit and read or workout while Stiles messed around on his computer or did his homework.

It was easier to calm Derek down when they were already lying next to each other.

Scott noticed that Stiles smelled of Derek even more often and let his displeasure be known but he was so wrapped up in Allison that he never pursued it very far. Stiles couldn’t bring himself to care.

They had been sharing a bed for over a month when Derek had a particularly vivid dream that left him shaking and panting on the side of the bed with Stiles wrapped around him from behind. Stiles was still half asleep, which was his only explanation for why it had seemed like a good idea to press a reassuring kiss to Derek’s shoulder. It didn’t feel nearly as platonic as he’d thought it would. Far from it. In fact, it was the most intimate thing Stiles had ever done.

They both froze, and Stiles thought, Fuck, that’s it. I’ve ruined everything. He laid his forehead against the area he’d kissed and whispered, “Sorry.”

Derek turned around and pushed Stiles onto his back, covering him with his own body. He nuzzled under Stiles’ chin, and started to place soft, wet kisses along the line of his throat. “Is this okay?” Derek asked. The hot breath brushing his ear made Stiles shiver. 

“‘s nice,” he mumbled, rubbing one hand along Derek’s back while the other ran through Derek’s hair. They were lulled back to sleep with lazy kisses, and gentle hands.

***

Stiles was worried that Derek would change his mind the next day, and withdraw. Instead, they continued on much the same as they had before, only now they had the added benefit of make out sessions.

Stiles thoroughly approved of this turn of events. Derek was a champion kisser, incredibly hot, and he genuinely appreciated Stiles and all his eccentricities. So, on one hand, he was in a relationship with the guy of his dreams. On the other hand, he was incredibly frustrated.

While they shared plenty of kisses, and were by no means short on cuddling, Derek never went any farther than heavy petting. Stiles tried to hint that while kisses were great, he was ready to kick things up a notch. Or five.

One night, after a good half hour of making out, he decided to take a more direct approach. Stiles had already managed to get Derek’s shirt off on several occasions, like right now, but he hadn’t convinced Derek to take his jeans off. He started by trying to unbutton them, but Derek, as per usual, pushed his hands away.

“Derek, please, I want to touch you,” Stiles whined. He tried an alternate route of sliding his hands down the back of Derek’s pants, but they were too tight for him to get very far.

Derek pulled back and looked down at him, “Stiles.”

Stiles groaned in frustration and rolled his hips up to press against Derek. “I want you so fucking badly. Derek, please.”

“Stiles, I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing something you aren’t ready for.” Derek moved onto his side, putting some distance between them.

“Can you not feel how hard I am? I’m so ready.” Stiles hit him with a pillow when Derek gave him a pointed look. “Derek, I promise I am emotionally and physically ready to have your dick in very close, very naked proximity to mine.” Derek still looked unconvinced, so Stiles persisted. “Look, I’m not asking you to fuck me.” 

Derek jolted in surprise. “Stiles!”

“Derek! I’m trying to have an emotionally mature conversation here, will you listen?” Stiles pushed up on to his knees so he could emphasis his point with his hands. “I trust you, and I care about you. I want to be together. I know myself, and I know what I’m ready for. I’m not ready to try like, all the way. Not yet. But I’m more than ready to touch you, and to have you touch me back. And I think I would really like giving you blowjobs, so I’d like to give it a try sometime, preferably soon.”

Derek looked torn. “You're still only seventeen.”

“I know that, but I haven’t rushed into this. I’ve thought about it a lot and I trust you. You aren’t taking advantage of me. I want to be with you.” He laid down, folding himself into Derek’s chest and giving them both the reassurance of physical contact. “If you aren’t ready and you need more time, then okay, take as long as you need. Just please, don’t hold back because you think it's what I want.”

“You would back off if I said I wasn’t ready?” Derek asked.

Stiles tilted his head up to study Derek’s face. “Of course. Two way street, dude. I want us both to be comfortable with what’s happening.”

Derek tucked Stiles back underneath him and kissed him hard, conveying all the affection and gratitude he couldn’t put into words. Then, he pushed up on his elbows and reached for Stiles’ belt. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely,” Stiles agreed, helping to work his fly open.

Derek hesitated, poised to push down Stiles pants, “If you change your mind, we can stop at any time. If you aren’t comfortable…”

“I will tell you and we will reevaluate, but right now, I’m fine. I’m great. Now, will you please take your pants off?” Stiles tugged at the waistband of Derek’s jeans.

“Bossy,” Derek teased, making Stiles laugh. Derek didn’t strip right away. He kissed Stiles back into a frenzy of need before he finally got them naked.

Stiles had thought he might feel self-conscious when Derek finally saw him, but he was too busy appreciating the sight of Derek to worry about his own appearance. “Fuck yes,” he breathed. Derek’s dick was wider than Stiles’, with a slight curve to the right, flushed red with desire, and uncut. 

“Can I?” Stiles asked, reaching out to touch. Derek nodded tensely, holding still for Stiles’ exploration. Stiles ran his hands over the length. He was fascinated by the feel of Derek’s foreskin, the movement of it beneath Stiles’ fingers and the way it looked gathered under the head. He decided he really did want to find out what it felt like in his mouth, but that would have to wait for another time.

Derek groaned, and Stiles looked up in surprise. He had been so wrapped up in his discoveries he hadn’t thought of what it was doing to Derek. “I really like your dick.”

Derek barked out a laugh in surprise. “How do you want to do this?”

Stiles felt his face heat up. “Together? Like…” He pulled Derek back on top of him and lined them up so he could wrap their joined hands around both of them. 

Derek hummed in approval. “Do you have any lube?”

Stiles shook his head and said hesitantly, “I thought we weren’t going to...you know.”

“Not for that. It just helps with the friction.” Derek laid a reassuring kiss on Stiles collarbone. “Lotion or something?”

Stiles grinned. “That, I have.” He reached for his bedside table and pulled out the stuff he used for solo time. Derek took some in his hand before wrapping it back around their dicks, and coating them. Stiles added some to his own hand and slid their fingers together. Derek kept their rhythm slow at first, focusing more on kissing Stiles than the task at hand.

Stiles couldn’t take much before he started thrusting up into their hands, reveling in the friction. He gasped when the head of Derek’s cock caught against the ridge on the sensitive underside of his own. It turned to a moan when Derek started sucking on his shoulder, just above his collarbone.

His free hand dug into Derek’s hair while he gripped himself tighter. “Not gonna last.”

“Good. Wanna feel you come for me,” Derek mumbled into his skin, then nipped at the mark he’d sucked into Stiles skin. Stiles whimpered as he gave in, pleasure quickly overwhelming him. Derek abandoned his own erection and pumped Stiles though his orgasm. When Stiles finished, Derek wiped the come from his hand onto the hollow of Stiles’ hip and started rutting through it. 

Stile felt limp and weak beneath him, too blissed out to help him finish. Derek didn’t take long, even without Stiles’ assistance, coming over Stiles’ stomach, then collapsing beside him and pulling him close.

“You okay?” Derek murmured.

“Mmmm,” was the only response Stiles could manage.

***

Stiles was still feeling happy and mellow when he was on his way to his locker before class the next day. At least, he was, until Scott crowded him against the lockers and took a big wiff. Scott’s face turned red with anger and confusion.

“Hey, wanna back off a bit, buddy?” Stiles pushed at Scott’s chest.

“Why do you smell like--like--?” Scott sputtered, and realization dawned on Stiles. He had showered that morning, but apparently certains smells lingered.

“Well, Scott, probably for the usual reasons,” Stiles snarked

Scott gaped at him. “I didn’t even know you were dating someone. Are you even gay?”

“Bi, I think. Maybe pan? I’m not super clear on the difference.” Stiles hoped that would distract Scott enough to calm him down.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Scott looked hurt for a second, then went back to mad. “You still reek of Derek. What the hell, man? Did you have sex with Derek?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Scott we’ve been together for over a month.”

Scott had the nerve to look betrayed. “You kept it a secret from me for over a month?”

Stiles felt his own rage bubble up and spill over. “When was I supposed to tell you, Scott? In the middle of chemistry? On the bench before practice? How about when we hang out after school? Oh wait! We never do that anymore. Maybe I should have interrupted while you were waxing poetic about Allison’s hair, so you could take two seconds to find out what’s up in _my_ life. I guess I figured you would ask, or show some interest at all in what's going on around you. I should have known better, since you’re the guy who literally doesn’t notice any of the random freaky shit happening in this town because he’s too busy playing Romeo.”

Scott looked completely stunned. “Stiles, Derek is dangerous. You shouldn’t be spending time with him at all.”

“Dangerous? Scott, Allison’s whole family literally tried to kill you, and you still insisted you had to be together!” The only thing that kept Stiles from shouting was the students passing them in the hall.

“Allison is my anchor!” Scott wasn’t nearly as conscious of their classmates, and his volume spurred several confused looks from people nearby.

Stiles lowered his own voice to a venomous whisper. “Well, maybe Derek is mine.” He slammed his locker closed and left Scott gaping at him. Stiles didn’t look at him when he came into homeroom, and refused to acknowledge him throughout class, despite Scott’s attempts to get his attention.

When lunch rolled around, he collected his food and turned toward his usual table. They had started sitting at a table with Lydia, Allison, Jackson, and a few other members of the lacrosse team. Most of them ignored Stiles, and while he usually took it in stride, he didn’t think he could stand sitting there today.

Scott called out to him as he walked past the table, but Stiles didn’t stop. He went straight for the table in the back where Erica, Isaac, and Boyd sat. He set his tray down and took a seat without asking permission.

“What are you doing?” Erica asked, suspiciously.

Stiles gestured to his plate. “Eating lunch.”

“But why are you eating with us?” Isaac drawled. He was slouched over his own tray, but his eyes were sharp with interest.

Stiles thought very carefully. He knew Scott could hear them if he wanted to, and was most likely listening in. He opted for the truth. “Because you are my pack, and pack supports each other. Right now, I need some support.”

The betas exchanged looks but didn’t say anything out loud. It was Boyd who eventually shrugged and tucked into his food. The other betas followed suit, and Stiles took a minute to breathe, relieved that they hadn’t sent him away.

Erica pulled out her phone and tapped away while asking Stiles about a comic they had both recently read.

After a few minutes, his phone buzzed. He expected to see Scott’s name light up the screen, but instead it was Derek.

_**Is everything okay?** _

_Yeah, why?_

_**Erica says you’re sitting with the betas. Something about needing support. __**_

_It amused Stiles to no end that Derek always put punctuation in his texts._

__Got into a fight with Scott. Figured since I can’t be with you right now, they’re the next best thing._ _

__**Want to talk about it?** _ _

__Not really._ _

__**Sheriff home after school?** _ _

__Not until late. See you then? ____

___Derek didn’t respond, just sent him a picture of grumpy cat in a party hat._ _ _

___Stiles nearly snorted milk out his nose. Erica gave him a raised eyebrow, so he showed her the picture. “Derek sent that?”_ _ _

___“Yeah, I told him he and this cat were soulmates, so he sends pictures of it to me.” Stiles explained._ _ _

___Isaac peered over Erica’s shoulder to look at the screen, and smirked. “Boyd, look, it’s the perfect Derek Cat.”_ _ _

___Boyd glanced over, then went back to his food. Stiles took back his phone and pulled up his picture folder. He found some of his favourites to show the betas and by the time lunch was over, they were in stitches, and Stiles didn’t feel so pissed off. He was still angry at Scott, but better prepared to get through the day._ _ _

___He spent lunch at the betas table for the rest of the week. He let Scott try and talk to him a few times, but they just rehashed the same argument. Scott couldn’t see why Stiles wanted to be with Derek, and Stiles didn’t understand how Scott could be so self-absorbed._ _ _

___Despite the tension between them, Stiles still thought they would get through it. They were best friends, after all, and they had been through a lot together. He was completely taken by surprise when Scott took matters into his own hands._ _ _

___***_ _ _

___He and Derek were heading back to Stiles’ house fairly early on a Saturday night after successfully convincing a leprechaun not to settle in the preserve. Their good mood vanished when they turned onto Stiles’ street, and Derek tensed. “Someone’s at the house.”_ _ _

___Stiles slowed to a stop. “Maybe Dad got off shift early.”_ _ _

___Derek nodded and opened his window, “Something’s wrong.” He leaned out to sniff, and froze at the same time Stiles looked up and saw the black SUV. “Argent,” Derek growled._ _ _

___“Do you need to get out of here?” Stiles didn’t want to face the situation alone, but he also didn’t want Derek in danger._ _ _

___“No. Drive closer, maybe I can hear what he’s saying.” Derek rolled his window down farther and closed his eyes to concentrate while Stiles drove up and pulled into the driveway. Derek’s eyes flew open and flashed red. “Fuck. He told your dad.”_ _ _

___Stiles felt the blood rush from his face. “Told him what, that we slept together?”_ _ _

___Derek shook his head. “No, werewolves. I’m not sure if he told him about that.”_ _ _

___Rage boiled under Stiles’ skin. “And I suppose this is the hunter explanation of werewolves, right? As opposed to reality.”_ _ _

___Derek nodded stiffly. Stiles slammed out of the car and headed for the door. Derek called after him, “Stiles, wait--” but he was already pushing open the door. The Sheriff was pacing in the middle of the living room while Chris sat on the couch, looking calm and collected. They both looked up when Stiles entered._ _ _

___“How dare you?” Stiles spat._ _ _

___Chris stood and held out his hands in a placating gesture. “Stiles, I know this isn’t how you wanted this to go--”_ _ _

___“What the hell gives you the right, huh? Who the hell are you to come into my house and spread your poison?” Stiles could feel himself shaking with anger._ _ _

___“Stiles, you were putting yourself in danger.” Chris stepped forward, but the growl from behind Stiles stopped him in his tracks._ _ _

___He reached for his gun, but the Sheriff stopped him, sounding eerily calm when he said, “Do not draw that weapon in my house. Stiles, step away from Derek.”_ _ _

___“No!” Stiles reached behind him and pulled Derek closer. Derek stood tensed and growling at his back._ _ _

___“Stiles, Mr. Argent told me that Derek is...that he’s a werewolf. He could hurt you,” the Sheriff said._ _ _

___Stiles laughed humorlessly. “Yeah, of course he could. So could anyone, Dad, I’m pretty freaking breakable. Derek might be a werewolf, but he wouldn’t hurt me.” Chris looked like he was about to protest, but Stiles cut him off. “Did he tell you who did hurt me, Dad?”_ _ _

___He watched his father’s eyes narrow and his form go perfectly still, while Chris looked uncomfortable. “He didn’t, did he. He told you all about what a monster Derek is, but he didn’t tell you it was his own father who beat the shit out of me at that lacrosse game. I bet he didn’t tell you about his sister either, right? I bet he conveniently forgot to mention that she trapped Derek’s whole family in their basement and lit their house on fire. Did he tell you that, Dad?”_ _ _

___“No he didn’t.” The Sheriff still sounded calm but his eyes were blazing the same way Stiles were. “There were children in that house. Did she kill them because they were…”_ _ _

___Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand tighter. “She killed them because she was bat shit crazy. She claimed it was because they were werewolves.”_ _ _

___“Kate broke the code. We’re only supposed to hunt those who hunt us.” Chris said it with such conviction. Stiles was amazed Argent still believed the mantra after everyone around him had broken it. “That doesn’t change the fact that werewolves are dangerous. They have inhuman levels of strength, healing and agility. The combination is lethal.”_ _ _

___Chris looked perturbed when the sheriff looked down at the floor with his hands on his hips and chuckled. Stiles, on the other hand, had seen his dad like this before, and knew he was far from amused._ _ _

___“Inhuman,” the Sheriff repeated. “You know, it’s funny you should say that. See, I was still a deputy when that fire happened. I got called out, and it was the kind of thing that sticks with you. I pulled up to a house engulfed in flames, and Derek was on the front lawn. He was sixteen, covered in ash, and screaming as he cradled his little brother's lifeless corpse in his arms. The thing I remember most is that the noise he made, that grief and anguish, sounded inhuman. You want to explain that one to me, Mr. Argent? Or how about you explain, if werewolves have such powerful healing, how did that little boy die of smoke inhalation?”_ _ _

___It didn’t really feel like a question, but Derek was the one to answer. “Freddy wasn’t a werewolf. Kate didn’t care.” He sounded small and distant, like he could picture the moment as vividly as the Sheriff could. Stiles turned and wrapped his arms around Derek, thinking of the nightmares he woke him from almost every night._ _ _

___“What Kate did wasn’t right. That doesn’t mean Derek isn’t dangerous,” Chris insisted. “He’s bitten five people since he became alpha, including my wife.”_ _ _

___“That’s not fair, she was trying to kill Scott,” Stiles argued. “He would have died if Derek hadn’t intervened.”_ _ _

___“I didn’t mean to bite her,” Derek growled._ _ _

___Chris scoffed. “It wasn’t exactly a graze.”_ _ _

___Derek’s eyes flashed in rage. “Betas are taught to fight with their teeth. They’re our second best weapons. I was never supposed to be an alpha. When my mother trained me, she never expected she and Laura would be murdered.”_ _ _

___“My wife is dead because of that bite,” Chris shouted._ _ _

___“Your wife is dead because she hated werewolves so much she’d rather stab herself than be one of them.” Stiles recoiled even as the words left his mouth._ _ _

___Chris advanced on Stiles, but the Sheriff grabbed his arm. “You know, Argent. You, Derek, and I, we all have something in common. We’ve each lost our loved ones and we only had one person left. One bright light to cling to.” He looked at Stiles when he said it, all the love and sadness clear in his eyes, before he turned back to Chris, voice rising. “Except, I still have mine and you still have yours. But Derek's got ripped in half in the middle of the woods.”_ _ _

___Chris looked like someone had punched him. He stared at the Sheriff for a moment before steeling himself and pressing on. “They’re sleeping together, you know.”_ _ _

___“How do you even--?” Stiles froze when realization hit him. “Scott.”_ _ _

___Chris grimaced. “He and Allison came to me. They were concerned about your safety. You’re their friend.”_ _ _

___Stiles shook his head. “This isn’t happening. He couldn’t have...He wouldn’t do that to me, he…” Stiles lungs burned, and it felt like he was sucking air through a straw. He let Derek pull him farther into the room and down onto the couch._ _ _

___“Mr. Argent, I’m sure Scott was overreacting. I would know if my son was dating someone. I think you had best go now.” The sheriff gestured for the door._ _ _

___“I don’t think you understand--” Chris pressed._ _ _

___“I know what’s best for my son. Now get out of my house.” The Sheriff sounded tired but resolved._ _ _

___Chris headed to the door. “You’ll find out soon enough that Hale is trouble. I just hope it’s not too late when you do.” He stormed from the room, leaving silence in his wake._ _ _

___The Sheriff sat down in his arm chair with a sigh. They listened as the SUV started up and drove away, then stayed frozen in their tableau, Stiles tucked against Derek’s side, waiting for his father to banish the best thing in his life._ _ _

___“Well,” The sheriff said, rubbing a hand over his face. “I have so many questions, I don’t know where to begin. Derek, this werewolf thing. Are you as likely to lose control as he says?”_ _ _

___“No, sir, I would never hurt Stiles or you.”_ _ _

___“In that case, we're going to table the rest of the supernatural discussion for now. Mark my words, though, we will be having that discussion.” He waited for both boys to nod, then continued. “Now, this other business. Has Derek been in this house without my knowledge?”_ _ _

___Stiles tried to form a plausible lie, but before he could manage, Derek said, “Yes, sir.”_ _ _

___The sheriff raised an eyebrow at the honest response. “How often?”_ _ _

___“Often,” Derek said._ _ _

___“And has Stiles been staying at your place, too?”_ _ _

___Stiles snorted before he could help himself, but his father pinned him with a pointed look. “Not really, I…”_ _ _

___“The old house isn’t exactly comfortable for humans right now,” Derek admitted._ _ _

___“Wait, you mean your old house. The one that nearly burned to the ground?” At Derek’s nod, the Sheriff continued. “You’ve been living in an abandoned house?”_ _ _

___“Sometimes he goes to an abandoned train depot instead, just to mix things up,” Stiles chimed in. Derek glared at him._ _ _

___“So, you’re essentially homeless, and spend your time in derelict buildings or...here.” Derek nodded again. “Why?”_ _ _

___Derek squirmed under the accessing gaze. “At first I was trying to avoid the Argents. After that, it became habit, I guess. As for why here...it’s easier to sleep.” The Sheriff didn’t look satisfied, just crossed his arms and waited them out. “I don’t sleep well. Laura used to wake me up, but now she’s...Stiles helps when the dreams are too much.”_ _ _

___“We didn’t even start out dating, Dad,” Stiles interjected. “He doesn’t have anyone else.”_ _ _

___“If he pressured you into this, if he took advantage of your friendship-”_ _ _

___“No, Dad, it wasn’t like that,” Stiles insisted. “I initiated the relationship. I escalated it. Derek has been very clear that we will be doing this at a glacial pace, and that I don’t have to do anything that I don’t want to.”_ _ _

___The Sheriff looked between them, considering. “I suppose it's possible that Scott and Argent were just confused by the nature of your relationship. I know you would _never _do something illegal like participate in underage sex.”___ _ _

_____Stiles nodded vigorously, while Derek looked confused beside him. He could likely hear the lie in the Sheriff’s heartbeat, and didn’t understand it._ _ _ _ _

_____“And since I didn’t _catch _you, there’s no reason for me not to trust my son, is there?” The Sheriff continued, giving Stiles a very significant look to emphasize his point and Stiles nodded again, hope blossoming in his chest.___ _ _ _ _

_______“Really, it’s only logical for your boyfriend to stay in the guest room while he finds a place of his own, isn’t it? Give us all an opportunity to get things straightened out.” The Sheriff nodded firmly like he was agreeing with himself._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“Totally, Dad, completely logical. That’s what guest rooms are for.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Derek looked completely shocked, “Wait, you mean--Ow.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Stiles had stomped hard on Derek’s foot without looking away from his father. “Hey, want a beer, Dad?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______The Sheriff nodded and Stiles sprang up from the couch. “I don’t feel much like cooking. We should probably order some take out.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“I could put something together,” Derek offered hesitantly._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“You cook?” the sheriff said, accepting the beer from Stiles._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“He sure does. In fact, Derek, why don’t you pull out that bacon from the freezer? You can make those loaded baked potatoes and the chicken I like.” Stiles jerked his head toward the kitchen and Derek took the opportunity to bolt._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______The Sheriff hummed consideringly. “You know, I think we might have some steaks in the freezer.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Stiles threw up his hands in exasperation. “Goddammit, Dad, I’m giving you bacon. Hasn’t this day been heart attack-inducing enough?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“We can have coleslaw,” Derek called from the kitchen. “It’ll balance out.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“Derek, you traitor!” Stiles left his dad grinning in his chair, and raced to the kitchen, then crashed into Derek. Instead of punishing him for indulging his dad, he wrapped his arms around him and held tight. “Are you okay?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Derek nodded. “Are you?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“Scott…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“I know. I’m sorry.” Derek pressed a kiss to Stiles’ temple._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“It’s not your fault. After everything that’s happened, I’m just not sure if I can forgive him for this.” It hurt Stiles to think about losing his friend, but the betrayal hurt more._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Derek shifted to look at Stiles’ face. “So, your dad…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“Oh right! Stilinski translation: You can stay with us until you find an actual place to live. No more abandoned buildings. We can keep doing what we’ve been doing, as long as we don’t let him catch us doing it. Which, you know, we wouldn’t want anyway.” Stiles shuddered a bit. “Tonight, you pretend to sleep in the guestroom, then come back to me after Dad goes to sleep.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Derek looked at him dubiously. “Are you sure?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“Of course. Look, I did the math when I was thirteen. My mom got pregnant at 17 and my dad is five years older. It would be hypocritical for him to stop us, but he can’t come out and say that, since he’s the sheriff. I just would’ve liked him to find out about this from us, rather than tacked on to Argent’s anti-werewolf diatribe.” Stiles gave Derek a peck on the cheek, then let go and headed for the freezer. “We’ll deal with that as best we can. Bacon will help, so get cooking.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Derek pushed him out of the way and set to work._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______***_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Stiles waited in his bed long after he heard his Dad walk past to his own room. He was starting to worry that Derek had fallen asleep without him when the door was gently pushed open._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Stiles smiled and pulled back the covers for Derek to crawl in. Derek didn’t hesitate to pull Stiles close and burrow into his neck. “Goodnight, Derek.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Derek grumbled against his skin._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Stiles grinned. “Sleep tight.” He waited a moment then said, “Don’t let the--”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“Stiles, I swear to god, go to sleep.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Derek ended up smothering him with a pillow so his laughter didn’t wake his dad. When the tussle petered out, they curled up together and drifted off. Both of them slept just fine._ _ _ _ _ _ _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By popular demand, a third chapter has been added. Thanks to everyone who commented on the fic and asked for more. I hope you find this more satisfying.

Around noon on Saturday, Stiles and Derek decided to make grilled cheese sandwiches. Since his dad was working, Stiles was looking forward to using the unhealthy processed cheese because it melted properly. Derek was sticking to cheddar, because he was a food snob. Stiles didn’t even try to suggest they have tomato soup with it, after Derek’s vehement rejection the last time they’d had grilled cheese. (“Do you know how much salt is in that shit? I can feel it seeping out of my pores.”) 

They had spent the morning looking through apartment listings for Derek. Nothing had jumped out at them, but Stiles wasn’t in a hurry. As far as he was concerned, Derek could stay at their house forever. Derek didn’t want to outstay his welcome, but he agreed to relax a bit after Stiles suggested they go grocery shopping that afternoon. There was no chance of the Sheriff accepting money, but he wouldn’t mind Derek contributing to the household by means of delicious food.

They were debating whether or not to put bacon on the grocery list when the doorbell rang. Stiles left Derek to watch the sandwiches and hurried over to the door. He was completely shocked to find Scott on his doorstep.

“Hey, dude,” Scott said, smiling hesitantly. He held up big box in his hands. “I bought Mario Kart.”

Stiles looked down at the box, which almost certainly contained Scott’s ancient Nintendo 64. It was the first one Scott had gotten, and though they both had multiple options for more up-to-date gaming systems, Stiles liked the nostalgia of this one. Scott had brought it over in the past when he wanted to cheer Stiles up.

“What are you doing here, Scott?” Stiles asked. Surely, Scott must know by now that Argent had come and spilled the beans.

“I came to cheer you up,” Scott said. “You know, since you can’t see Derek anymore.”

All the anger Stiles felt yesterday came rushing back.

“Stiles?” Derek called, coming out of the kitchen. Stiles tried to offer him a reassuring smile, but his heart was pounding with rage and he thought it might look more like a grimace.

“I’m fine, don’t let the food burn.” Derek’s frown deepened, but he returned to the kitchen.  
Scott’s face contorted in anger and disbelief, fingers flexing around the box, and Stiles wondered if he was going to wolf out as he growled, “What the hell is he doing here?”

“We’re having lunch,” Stiles said, like it was obvious.

“But how--Why--?” Scott sputtered.

“What, Scott?” Stiles said. “You mean, why is he here after you sent a hunter to our door?”

Scott stepped back, blinking like he had only just realized that Stiles was angry at him. “Stiles, I didn't know what else to do. You wouldn't listen.”

Stiles snorted, “So, you tried to get my boyfriend arrested? What the hell, Scott?”

Scott cringed. “I only told Mr. Argent about that as a worst case scenario! Derek is not your boyfriend--”

“Yes, he is!” Stiles shouted. “Why can’t you get that through your thick skull?”

“He’s using you, Stiles,” Scott said. “Either to get to me, or Allison's family, or even for sex, I don’t know--”

Stiles snorted. “No, you don’t know, Scott. You don’t know him at all.”

“Stiles, please. I just wanted to keep you safe.”

“Bullshit. You weren’t thinking about anyone but yourself. You knew I didn't want my dad involved in this. Not only did you force him into the supernatural world, you got Chris Argent to do it. He's a hunter, for fuck’s sake. That's literally the worst impression of werewolves you can get, ever. You could have gotten Derek killed.”

Scott reared back in surprise, like it had never occurred to him that Stiles’ dad was in possession of several firearms, most of which Chris had wolfsbane bullets for. “I didn't mean to, Stiles. We just thought he’d make Derek stay away.”

“We?” Stiles said, realization hitting him. “Of course. Allison helped you cook this up, didn’t she?”

“I was upset, Stiles! I tried to talk to my mom, but she said she didn’t want any details,” Scott whined. Stiles wondered if Melissa was pulling the same move as his dad, the ‘If i didn’t see it, I don’t have to report it’ approach. “I don’t understand why your dad would let him stay.”

Stiles glared at him. “Probably because that's just the kind of person he is, Scott. When someone needs somewhere safe to go, they will always be welcomed by him. How many times have you stayed with us over the years?”

Scott hunched his shoulders, reminded of the many sleepovers they’d had over the years, especially while his parents were divorcing.

“Maybe because we talked about the fire,” Stiles said, adding another layer of guilt to Scott’s conscience. “He remembers it, you know. Dad remembers all the people who died and what it did to Derek. He also remembers finding Laura's body in the woods. Both halves.”

Scott winced, and for a second, Stiles felt bad about reminding him of that night in the woods. But a lot had happened since then, and Stiles now thought of the body as Laura, Derek’s dead sister. Scott still saw her as just a dead werewolf, not human, and that had to stop.

“But mostly? Because I love Derek.” Stiles said simply. “And my dad loves me. So we’ll take care of each other. All three of us.”

Scott shook his head. “Derek is dangerous--”

“Fuck, Scott, Allison almost shot you! She nearly killed Erica and Boyd, and you still crawled right back to her. Derek would never hurt me, can you actually say the same?” Stiles spat. He stared at the hurt, confused puppy dog expression on Scott’s face, and all the anger drained away, leaving only hurt, betrayal and exhaustion in it's place. He leaned against the door, energy flagging. “I just don't understand how you can be so goddamn self centered, Scott. It's like nothing exists outside of what you want.”

“No, Stiles, I’m trying to help you--”

“Goodbye, Scott.” Stiles said. He stepped back, and shut the door in Scott’s stunned face. He walked into the kitchen quickly, and stopped short as soon as he could see Derek.

Derek opened his arms without a word, and Stiles threw himself into them.

The food grew cold as they stood together, Stiles burying his sorrow in the comfort of Derek’s embrace.

***

Stiles sprawled over the couch with his head on Derek’s stomach. He was half paying attention to the tv show playing on the screen, but mostly, he was enjoying the moment of peace. In the last four days, there had been an endless stream of questions from his dad, trying to get up-to-date on the whole supernatural situation.

Derek fielded a lot of them, but he wasn’t great at communication in general, and he still felt nervous with the sheriff. Stiles was trying to play down some of the dangerous aspects of the past year, but his dad saw through him. All in all, he was more pissed about those than the whole older boyfriend thing.

They were done playing twenty questions for the night, so Derek was reading while Stiles sprawled and the Sheriff pretended not to doze in his armchair. Derek tensed and a moment later, the doorbell rang. The Sheriff sat up and shook himself awake like a dog, before he stood to get the door.

“Who is it?” Stiles asked quietly.

“Scott,” Derek said.

Stiles pressed his face into Derek’s stomach for a second before pushing up to sit properly. If there was going to be another fight, he didn’t want to be lying down. He stayed close to Derek, though, because he refused to let Scott come between them in any way.

The Sheriff came back in with Scott trailing after him. “I think I’ll make some popcorn,” he said, nodding to them before making a hasty retreat.

“What do you want, Scott?” Stiles said, blankly.

Scott looked at Derek pointedly, so Stiles twined their fingers together to show he wasn’t leaving. Scott sighed. “I came to apologize.”  
Stiles blinked in surprise, but didn’t say anything. If Scott was going to do this, he’d do it without Stiles help.

“I’ve thought about what you said and you were right. I was too focused on my own feelings, I didn’t listen to you explain yours.” Scott shifted his crooked jaw, searching for the right thing to say. “I didn't realize how much he meant to you. I thought it was like with Lydia. You putting someone on a pedestal and them just using you.”

“Like you used Derek against Gerard? Or like you tried to use my dad against me?” Stiles said. “Or maybe how you used me as your messenger boy in your great Allison love story?”

Scott grimaced. “You’ve been a really good friend, and I’ve let you down. I’m really sorry. If Derek is what you want, I'll leave him alone.”

“Whatever,” Stiles shrugged.

“And I'll make sure I ask about your life, and listen when you talk. Even if it’s about Derek. We can hang out more, like we used to and when we do, I'll focus on you and your life, not on Allison,” Scott said earnestly. 

“Why?” Stiles asked.

Scott smiled a little. “You're my best friend. What would I do without you?”

Stiles sighed. “You’re a dumbass.”

“I know.”

“Siccing Argent on us was a really shitty thing to do.”

“I know,” Scott said, again. His puppy dog eyes were coming out in full force.

Stiles looked at Derek, and he raised an eyebrow in response.

“Wanna watch CSI reruns with us?” Stiles offered.

Scott beamed, then jumped onto the couch, tackling Stiles. “Missed you.”

“Ugh, you're heavy, get off!” Stiles shouted, ruffling Scott’s hair. Scott flopped into the seat next to him, and Stiles settled back so his head was on Derek and his legs were flung over Scott’s lap. 

The Sheriff came back in and gave them some of his popcorn, while Stiles muttered, “This better be Smart Pop.”

“Stiles, it’s corn. That’s practically a vegetable,” the Sheriff huffed.

They watched some of the show, then Scott cleared his throat awkwardly. “So, Derek, what have you been up to?”

Derek just raised his eyebrows, looking pained, and Stiles groaned. “Oh, god, please don’t try to make small talk. I can’t bear it.”

Scott and Derek knocked hands when they both went for Stiles’ side, where he was most ticklish. Derek rolled his eyes and went back to his book. Stiles and his dad ripped apart the procedural inaccuracies while Scott cheerfully made guesses about the murderer. 

Surrounded by the people he cared for most, it was everything Stiles had hoped it could be.


End file.
